


Working Under Stesser

by historiCthrenody (Cookieluv246)



Series: Commissions and RQ's [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Comfort No Hurt, Daddy Kink, I'm so fucking sorry, I'm so sorry, Love, M/M, One Shot, Size Difference, Size Kink, fat kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 05:41:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15812559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cookieluv246/pseuds/historiCthrenody
Summary: Karkat is stressed out at the notion of losing weight, and his boyfriend drops in as he's dropping all of his personal aspirations.





	Working Under Stesser

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lavy (BadTitle)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadTitle/gifts).



> i'm so sorry about the damn daddy kink

One.

Two.

Three.

One.

Two.

Hu—

 

You _grunt._

You feel an anvil punt you in the gut, as you haphazardly throw your body around to try and get out of a cage like a trapped rat. The barracuda in you dictates your work regime, as you keep strutting your stuff.

One, Two

One, two

One, tw-

“ _Motherfuc_ -“

You weasel yourself on to the ground, as the weight you were lifting rolls off to the side. You hiss loudly and sizzling, as you curl into yourself. You huff, and huff, and huff. Your face feels like you just took a ginormous shit on yourself, and you feel like you just swallowed the accumulation of a thousand bees.

“ _Motherfucker_ -“

You’re going to die.

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you’re most certainly going to die.

This was the first completed day of your exercise death sentence this foul sweep.

The other days following, you got inside your block, took out all your exercise equipment, and proceeded to crash and burn on to the floor, and start reading random movie facts on your phone as about both human troll versions of Tom Cruise.

It’s a tiring life being a fat trashy slob.

It’s as tiring as your walk to the meal block whenever you decide to eat up your feelings.

You’re kind of getting depressed.

It’s starting to show.

It started to show about fifty, sixty or,

Ok you’re about a hundred pounds too tall.

You want a divorce.

Ben’s been getting very stale since last night, and Jerry’s been out on the street catting it up like a hooker.

You haven’t said a word about this to your boyfriend, but the truth is, the less you talk the less this world can mesmerize you with it’s sappening defeatism and it’s hankering ploys.

You talk to him mainly on pesterchum, he’s usually hanging out with his sister or the mayor. You tend to act long distance the moment your true lover and husband shows his ethereal marooned face. Troll Will Smith is the heart throb to your muscle throb. The despacio of your prime time solo.

In fact, you’ve been using him as a bit of an idol to get yourself to work out.

You snack on low salted Nacho’s with half fat salsa when you hear a crash open from the door.

“Yo, mop duty was on Lalonde today and let me tell you there was some—oh- son ofabit—!!”

You hear him slip on metal and he pushes down your potted plants and messes up your furnish and carpet. It sounds like a hurricane hit the roof, when you see the mess of red rolled up on the floor like a used tissue roll. God dammit, he scattered dirt everywhere. Dirt is FUCKING everywhere, and he broke the fine china, but he didn’t bring any fucking flowers.

“ _Dave_.”

You grunt out flaccidly, as you walk towards him. You kick past literal soil and leaves as you move towards your knight in shining horror. Your Leonardo Decapitated. Your Davinci Leotardo.

“Dave, _the carpet_.”

“Dude, I almost just broke my face.”

“On my vintage cheetah print from Earth’s submarginal China.”

“Kathy, the bus boy just came with a pitcher and a basket of goodies. I don’t get a tail wag, or a thanks? I looked this good today for no reason? I broke my shins dude, I broke my fuckin shins.”

“I love you.”

“Thank you.”

“Now shut up.”

You do no disservice to his family name, as you kick a bit of dirt into his grumpy pale face.

“Kick me in the knees and in the balls why don’t ya??” He coughs, as you see the pull of disgust on his face.

“Get up.” You say rolling your eyes.

“Son of a-“ He scoffs-

You pull him by the arms, and he starts spattering in gibberish about you sipping on ‘haterade’ and ‘MONSTER FECES.’ Hell hath no fury like a baby Strider scorned, but a baby Strider is all you ever seem to get on one of your better varsities, even during the days you pick out his _favorite_ movie.

“Dave, please stop making a mess on the living room carpet. I can see you dribbling like a frothing hyena, and your lucrative vision is giving me a hungover migraine.”

“I’m dying, pull the lever on me squartle-“

You kick him like a toddler, and manage to make him almost trip over himself. But luckily, as if God laid him a single horderve of a favor within his plate, he lands straight on you. Straight on your very muscular and VERY sexily handled love handles. You manage to take the brunt of it. What, with you being tall dark and-- fat-ok. You’re fucking fat, _ok_.

“Oof!”

“There, there you delicate oaf.”

You pat him on the back, and you hear the memories of a wheeze lift off his person like the St. Peter’s ghosts. Your companion does less than a perfect nine on the equilibrium scale, as he fortifies his place in the room like a living breathing statue. Stature notwithstanding, as you look him up and down like a twig about to lose the last of his leaves.

Not bad, for a man who goes slinks a lot.

“What the hell sort of set-up is this. You could have warned me were doing Barbie Butterfly Crunches, across the mocha coffee stained table, Susanne.”

“Listen, Betty,” You start, but feel yourself groan as you see a few of your dumb weights roll by like tumblefucks off the ground. “You know, we usually reserve the right to serve animals, but I’m pretty sure barkbeasts ring their ass on the ground on the welcome-mat, not on the actual dining table where the so-called white pedestrians lived on sun Cincinnati Washington. Where they rowed their lawns, and mowed their shiny stubborn asses.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“Please do something else other than stutter, I’m fucking bored.”

You hear the shrug of your playlist on your ipod play in the distance like a broken half record, as your eyes recede into the back of your head. While, you scratch the lining on your chest from the force of a thousand dumbs, wondering blankly if it left a mark about the size of Dave’s inflated ego.

The mere mention of your subordinate, gets him to grumble some sort of malarkey into the distance. You notice the poised tint of pink across his freckles, and you peak your head to his attention, as you quirk inquisitively to the side.

“Hey, Dodo.”

“Hmph,”

“Are you catching a fever on la-la island?”

You knock on his head for figurative measure, but you don’t feel much, as he stiffens his bottom lip like a souring dot-eyed tabby.

“The weather up there is about as hot, as my royal rock solid iceberg. I mean, it’s not much, but it’s chilling across the border with the abdominal yeti.”

“Dave.”

“If we weren’t so busy frying it up in here, with a metered connection of a fan installed by yours truly, I’m sure we would have been at least closer to Dante in his househell of inferno.”

“Dave, you’re groveling over there like a wimpy.”

“I’m not fucking groveling, you know you made me almost jut my toe with my stellar landing over there. Thanks for that, I’ll be sure to message you my hospital bills the next time I visit Lalonde for more than five minutes of her puking over my brand new Balenciaga’s, but enough about me, how’s the weather up there in cuddly buggy island?”

_“What?”_

“Shit, I mean, snuggly beartopia—mother—hold my hand for a moment, I forgot my snickers bar while you were making doe eyes with Will Smith, shirtless and drenched in blue fanta. There were gnarly masculine gruff butt touches and handshakes and—shit, I need to sit down.”

“Huh???” You laugh out weakly, as you watch your boyfriend circle the room with his hands on his face.

He wilts onto the couch, and you move over to follow him, as you drape a hand over his shoulders, and curl up next to him.

“What’s gotten you bees on acid, lately?”

“You know, deep down, I knew my lack of a father figure was telling me something when he switched the tv too soon to move past fat sumo wrestlers on at&t’s live network. Is it wrong to have to look at a man twice over, just to reconcile the fact that either he had foreseeable psychic dick radar powers, or I was snoozing on the horrifying capabilities of two singular entities sharing more than a bed, but an elephant of a kink-“

“Dave.”

“woah,WOAH, _wOah_ , I’m in the middle of a private sherlock discussion, Watson, what’s it to you?”

“Dave, you look like you just took on a heat rash from an old lady’s butt.”

“Yeah, you ever sit an ass on a butt and took a dump, I mean you look like the front lawn after the cat got dragged in.”

“ _Dave_.”

“Read my lips, go get fucked off the next time there’s a cage fight sometime next season—heyHEY-HO, NO LIFTING THE TWINK. PUT THE DUMB, FIRETRUCK STRINGBEAN DOWN.”

You snicker sorrily to yourself, as you pull him against your lap. You curl your arms around his waist, and wait for him to stop jittering like a little frisky dog.

“Dave, are you cold?”

“Cold, as a fucking clam.”

He gruUuunts, as you make him make himself get all comfortable in your auto-heater. You rest your head on his shoulder, and close your eyes contently, as you feel small purrs rhythm out of your gut like a lullaby.

You feel him grow meek, as you make weird alien noises as his heart rates settles steadily against the throes of your chest.

Your humming grows more serene, when you feel him shift around to curl up against you. Meeting his face into the crook of your arm pit. He’s cuter when he’s not being such a baby. You feel more contented than you did earlier, as you grow almost sleepy with unambiguity.

“You’re soft…” He drawls on. Mouthing on your sleeve like a baby, as he makes a wet spot against your chest.

“Are you trying to eat my sweater, nerd?” You rub across his ash blonde streaks. He must have dyed it recently, because his roots aren’t showing.

“Mmph,” He says while barricading himself closer to your body.

He looks snug against you like a little baby bunny. Rolled up like a little roley-poly, curled up like a twig, as he feels comfortable against your entire body.

“This feels like m’laying on a water bed…”

“Huh?”

“Y’know… You’re like. A big burly hot wrestler. Lifting up weights. Being fuckin cuddly and adorable,” He snuggles his arms tighter around you. “fucking, stupendous.”

You don’t know what to say, you’re a little taken aback with the compliment that you didn’t expect to receive. You were just chilling out, maxing out, ‘laxin all cool like, right side of the school.  You were almost ready to catch some extra zzz’s, but you’re a little roused with how…sweet he’s being, wow.

“Thanks..”

“You remember pbs specials?”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, there was a few about some kid stuff. Comfy couch with the fuckin stupid raggy ass clown. Telletubbies. There was a bear stuck in a house, and I just thought you know, you and him have gruffly a bit in common, which is to say you’re a cool guy voice acted by a weirdly saintly black dude.”

“Mh-hm.”

“I mean, if we’re talking about saints, I feel less of one when I’m cuddling with the hulk and a corgi mixed together, but none of us ever knew a thing about nothing that had to do with sticks and…”

You kiss him on the forehead, and nip him by the brow.

“You’re a dumb-dumb.”

“Hmph,”

You feel him melt into your arms like a sleeping raccoon, and you can’t help the murmur of noises that come slipping out of your throat. You bring him closer to you on instinct, as small tremors rhumble from out your gut. You’re silent, until you feel Dave shift beneath you. Like a purring lapbeast, trying to make itself more comfortable.

You feel something kind of wrong poke at you.

Small puffs of breathing shuffles from out your lover, and you look down at him with a wavering sense of naivety.

“H-h-“

You feel drool hit your arm, as your hands grip around his waist correctively. Your fingers tap in small ministrations between his waistband and the rising of his shirt. You help level him over your knee, as you nuzzle into his neck and chuckle.

“You’re such a weirdo,” You bite playfully between the crook of his neck and jaw. You can tell you’re tickling his ears, by the way he starts to freckle red between his shades and you’re breathing. You bite at the tip, and he keens into your hold, as you suck around the cartilage, probing your tongue between the dip of his hearing, and his lobe.

“A-a—” He strangles his throat, as you adjust your leg you position him a bit easier against you. You feel his hands grip at your chest, and squeeze at your softening bicep, which makes you feel a little meek.

“Y-you’re so hot. H-holy shit, you’re such a, a, a, tea—”

You feel his hand palm at himself, and you think that gives you about the right of way to growl at him.

_“Match me,”_

“A- _Ah_ —”

You push him against the couch rest, as you feel his slender arms envelop your neck. Your hand goes to move between his legs, as you get a strong groan from out of his lips the minute your large mammoth hands pull at his bulge.

You feel a bit morbid about how much smaller he looks underneath you, honestly you feel kind of dismayed. Your girth is larger than you’d like in all the wrong areas. He’s like a toothprick compared to your flabby flatulence, and it makes your mood filled with a bit of dread, when you see his red eyes peak up at you.

“F-fuck, d-daddy go slow-“

You see saliva trail down his pink face, as he bucks himself up against the couch. His hand reaching to meet yours, as the other lifts him, to sit himself more easily on his back.

“H—h—please, push me against the bed and make me choked against your beautiful Adonis body, holyshit—”

“Adonis? This old thing,” You say incredulously with a laugh, as you rock on top of him enough for both of your belt buckles to chink.

“Holyshitholyshitholyshit—I’ve always wanted to be manhandled like a ragdoll, please daddy, please bubba, ple—”

You kiss up and down his neck, as you move yourself along his stomach, and lift him up by the ass, to meet his half shaken shorts with your teeth.

“ _Shit—Shit—Shit—Shit—Shit—”_

You barely get the chance to start sucking on him, when you see his little willy snake cream in barely any seconds time against your cheek. You squint, as you hold him in your mouth, and lick clean the remainder of his sanity, or insanity. You suck down to the ridge of his rhumble spheres like he’d always mentioned, and you feel the way his shaft starts to quiver as it barely makes the back of your throat.

_“Daddy—daddy—daddy—Kark—k—k—karkat—haa—a—a—aahh--!!"_

You let him gurgle up the rest of his sentence, as you look him dead in the eye, as you slurp up the remaints of his baby batter, and pop off the ring of his cock _sloooowwly_.

“Mm—mmh—mh—”

He looks at you with a semblance of watery doe-eyes, as he seems still on the edge of coming his entire array of pants.

You slowly jerk his still flagged up tall standing dick. Up, and down the crevices of your fingers, as you lick the remaining twinge of saliva off your dry lips.

“ _Hey,_ babe.” You purr, lowering down your eyes coquettishly.

“Y-you’re the sexiest beast I never even got the chance to t-thA—h—”

He arches his back, and pushes his stomach up, as he rolls his body in your direction. You see the perfectly catty way he curves his spine to nearly break his elbows, as you considerably jerk him off with the eloquency of an English Professor.

“G— _ooooood._ Babe,”

“Cat got your tongue?”

“Cat c-caught my nerves, and fuckin—splattered k-k-kitten litter all over the god damn toilet.”

“Come again?”

_“Nnngh—fuck me—”_

You feel a snicker leave the head of your lips, as you suck down to the dribble of his balls, as you wallop and guide spit down the curve of your throat. Eyes sharpened on him like a hawk, as you watch the way his body trembles underneath you. His arms, his lips, his thighs, make you ache.

“S-S-S-S-Stop teasing like a god damn schmooze, and lift me pirate—princess—airborn baby style in your ghastly rugged arms to the bed and f—f—fuck, _daddy_ —”

Dave almost looks like he’s a minute from bubbling to tears, so you take one slow lick up the vein of his dick, and pop the head in and out of your mouth, before winking back at him.

“Ddd--- _hhhhhh_ —”

“Hey cutie, want to hop on the top of my van?”

“gdsfgjfhgdshgjgkjfg—”

You bounce on him, letting your mind go to waste, as you hear him hurl with integrity at the mere nuisance of your stature. You jerk off him immediately, flustered and scared in the case that you might have broken a bone or two. You worry your lip, and pat down his shoulder as you look him up and down.

“Shit,” You chew on your mouth.

“H—H—” You feel Dave bounce with the juncture of the bed, and a damp spot is left on the underside of your thigh.

“Uhh….” You look over dismayed enough to notice the confusion in a series of unfortunate events, and acknowledge that you might have accidentally mashed his bulge into pieces. You consider this.

“Fuck—Fuck—” You see the way his face is painted red, as he needily cants into the air to rebuild up your earlier momentum, as droplets of water start to skewer nosily onto his face. “Karkat—Karkat—Karkat—Karka—”

“Hon,”

You see him nearly balled up with energy, as he bucks needily into your groin. The air density takes on a rapidly heated temperature, as you feel him bounce on you like one uppity reared up son of a bitch. You push your hands down on his waist to calm him down.

“Mm—Mm—hh—”

“Cadet, I didn’t break your gastral lobe along with your voice inflection box, did I?”

“Mn—n. MMn—mm—”

“Seriously, you didn’t pull a muscle when I flopped on you like a sea-lion fish, correct?”

“Me—fuc—bed—pls—”

“Ok, ok, ok. You’re such a whiny brat.”

You lift him, _ugh_ , off the bed like a ballerina about to go trapezing with a bunch of boys at the afterparty. His cape is so fussy to work around, you decide to cocoon him like a baby bug, just to make sure it doesn’t drag on the floor in hopes that everyone and God doesn’t laugh at you when you inevitably trip. Maverick fucking pain in the fucking ass, that load of lard is.

You drop him like a hamster on to the bed, as you hear the jerk of an ‘oof’ come from your party.  

He’s pretty, in that way that makes you feel caught peeping, as you eat him up in a bit of a daze.

You mess with his belt buckles, as you tug them enough to get around your own. You feel him shift up, jerking his ribs, as he prods his knees to your side. Your hand moves to his ankle, as you massage circles around them, underneath your finely clipped nails. The last horror when you’d forgotten to file them, made Dave almost wet the bed.

Your bulge unwrapped itself, as you noticed the way Dave curled his mouth. The cuteness in the way his breath matched the unevenness of his face. His hitch. His arch.

You move his slender thighs across the wreath of your thick ones.

There’s a whine he makes, when you roll your hips in crescendo to the girth of his balls.

To the sliver of his belly,

To the red hidden underneath his pouch,

You stretch him,

You wilt him,

Your fingers help push the rest of yourself in,

As you rock in against the waves of his stomach.

You listen to him cave.

You kiss his lips, and you slurp up the remains of his dripping saliva.

 

*

 

Sweat drops off from between the pillow, and your eyelids. They feel about as soggy as a due workout should. Good thing, there was absolutely nothing due to your impromptu bastardization of the word.

Your lovelette rustles in the covers, and against your bare globby chest. He seems to be appreciative of your ginormous mounds, as he feels assumptively smitten with drooling all over them, where you barely jar yourself awake.

You rustle his hair, as you feel distinctly blissed out with salt on the linger of your tongue. Your throat’s dry, as you feel him rub his face against your already damp and darkened skin. His arms are around yours, as he’s curved his nose into your arm pit, and you get a faint satedness in company.

“Mm…ngh..,”

“You feeling chirpy, hon?”

He runs his head against your breast, and looks like a bird almost ready to croon.

“..n…n’happy”

“Hm.”

You run a hand across his hair, and you look at the way he still feels slightly roused. A soft sigh purses through your lips, as he pokes and kneads at your belly. You look down bemusedly, and blink.

“Excuse me?”

He doesn’t say anything, he just murmurs to himself, as he plays with you like a little dough boy.

“Are you enjoying yourself??” You ask, raising your eyes, as if too tired to exert annoyance.

“I always wanted, one of th…”

“Hah?”

“I always wanted a life size plushie as a kid. A big brown teddy.”

“Huh.”

“You remind me of, uh…” He pauses himself, as you see him feel a bit wormily displaced. “How I used to feel at amusement parks. How special I felt. You remind me of one of the rides I used to go on, I forget which one.”

“That sounds cute.”

“You’re cute.”

“Hmph.”

“I like sleeping with you,”

“You like sleeping ON me.”

“Yeah.”

“Goodnight, you dumb withering baby.”

“I like your baby fat.”

“What??”

“I like your baby fat.”

You feel heat get to your cheeks, as your mouth curls up in dismayed bewilderment.

He actually doesn’t…

Mind how you look?


End file.
